What about my grades?

Sunday night, Dodo and I were just about to go for a walk when my brother and his girlfriend knock on the door and ask if we want to go minigolf. We decide to go.

All of the minigolf were closed, so we ended up driving downtown. As we approached a stoplight, there was a red car to our left that had four teenagers, two boys and two girls. They had to be around 16 years old.

I looked over, and the driver was looking at me. I held his stare (as I have seasoned blood for staredowns) and the punk tells me to my face,

“You have a staring problem!”

I promptly responded with my middle finger and an explicit retort.

At this point, the teenagers break into a power trip, proclaiming how they were going to kick my ass and everything else. They were following my car and honking and driving crazily. The following continued for quite some blocks, and we came to a bridge where I was going to turn and they planned to go straight.

The punks pulled alongside my car with their feeble cussing and challenges. I told them if they wanted to fight so badly they could follow us some more. They were laughing and yelling, so my brother responded in perfect dramatic eloquence:

He flapped his arms like chicken wings and exclaimed, “Bawk, bawk, bawk!”

They became frustrated and sped their piece of crap car off as fast as they could, and we proceeded on our way to McDonalds for some ice cream cones.

Sure enough as we were getting out of the car at McDonalds, the punks were honking their horn and yelling again. I told Dodo and my brother’s girlfriend to go call the police inside, and that my brother and I would handle the scrubs.

Once again my brother erupted in perfect stagemanship yelling: “Get your ass over here you little *****!” and jumping and throwing his hat to the ground. Now the thing to understand is that my brother is a gargantuan individual. The sheer size of him was enough to turn the faces of the punks cold, but then his un-mediated rage surging directly at them with a scream at the top of his lungs caused the punks to turn absolutely pale.

Undefeated, though, they came back again into the parking lot and were honking their horn at us. My brother and I were standing alone outside our car waiting for them, but the would not even dare to pull their car within 50 feet of us. The cowards would only yell and honk their horn.

Once they got wind that the police were coming, they ran off. But this little event was certainly unexpected entertainment for the night!!